


The Pledge of Persistence

by ArtemisAndShadowkins, BaskingShark, isaacmclahey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Abuse, M/M, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisAndShadowkins/pseuds/ArtemisAndShadowkins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaskingShark/pseuds/BaskingShark, https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaacmclahey/pseuds/isaacmclahey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The group have finally reached their sixth year of Hogwarts, and are reaching breaking point. In this fierce fight for total unity in the Wizarding world, can everybody come out unscathed? (tw: pretty much everything you can think of)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Okey-dokey, this is Emily here in the bold, but this chapter is actually Katy's. From here on, all the odd numbered chapters are Katy's (1, 3, 5, etc.) and the evens are mine (Emily's)(2, 4, 6, etc.) unless it says otherwise at the top.**

**This is a disclaimer for the entire story: we do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, and neither do we own any Les Misèrables characters (/cries into cereal)**

 

Enjolras walked steadily through the rattling train, his head held high. After all, he was a prefect.

A Gryffindor prefect nonetheless.

Enjolras enjoyed school immensely - he always had. Ever since he'd been little and his parents had told him about Hogwarts, he'd wanted to go. To see the wonder, to meet new people, and, most of all, to learn magic.

Enjolras drunk up any information offered to him, determined to be the best wizard possible, determined to make the world a better place, both for muggles and wizards. That was one of his main passions; to make everyone equal, in particular to stop discrimination against muggleborns. That was always something that angered him; how could anyone be better than someone else due to blood status? Two of his best friends, Joly and Jehan, were muggleborn and they were both very loyal and talented wizards. Enjolras knew of some "pureblood" wizards, who weren't any use to anyone, but thought that there blood status brought them to the top of the social ladder.

It was ridiculous, totally ridiculous, and Enjolras was going to do everything he could to change that. After all that was the whole point of the group he led, friends of the ABC. That was the aim that they were set on; that was the aim that they _would_ achieve!

Enjolras was rudely snapped out of his thoughts by a rowdy bunch of first years, charging down the train towards him. Frowning, he stepped back, allowing them to pass, before stopping the boy at the back.

"What do you think you're doing?" He snapped at the first year, who was much shorter than he was, with wild dirty blonde hair and grey eyes, yet he seemed to have that air of importance about him, clearly telling the Gryffindor prefect that this boy would be a troublemaker. However he didn't seem mean or spiteful in any way, merely mischievous... But even so, that was no excuse.

"Don't you know that it's dangerous to run around like that?" Enjolras could see that the boy wasn't listening to him, making him feel even more annoyed, when he had been a first year he'd been quiet and rule abiding, not annoying, loud, and cocky.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, I am a prefect you know!" Enjolras snapped, gaining the attention of the scruffy haired first year.

"Sorry, sir," the boy said in a sing song voice, his voice had a strong London accent, "Was jus' excited 'bout sortin' n' that, you know,"

Enjolras' frown softened slightly, at the first years honesty, "What's your name?"

"Thenardiers the name, Gavroche Thenardiers," the boy said proudly.

"Well, Gavroche," Enjolras muttered, unsure what to make of the boy "Which house do you want to get sorted into?"

"Gryffindor o'course! The house for the brave!" Gavroche exclaimed looking up at the houses prefect with a new respect "definitely not Slytherin, bunch o' judging Purebloods"

Enjolras opened his mouth about to tell Gavroche not to think that of other houses, though inwardly he agreed, when one of the other first years called Gavroche's name, and, to Enjolras' astonishment he began walking towards his friend.

_Had he no respect at all?_

Enjolras was in half a mind to call Gavroche back and scold him for walking away when he had been talking to him, when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Don't take your duties too seriously Enjolras; you'll give yourself a heart attack,"

Enjolras turned to see Combeferre, the boy whom he'd know the longest and considered to be his best friend.

Ignoring his comment with a half smile Enjolras said "Good to see you, Combeferre, did you have a good summer?"

"Pretty good," his friend replied, as the pair began making their way towards the front of the train, looking for a free compartment. Both Enjolras and Combeferre were prefects, though from different houses, and should therefore be in the prefects compartment. But they had technically been patrolling the train for trouble, and no on would mind if they got their own compartment.

The Ravenclaw prefect continued "What about you Enjolras, how was your summer?"

"Very good, actually. I did a lot of work for the ABC and it's really coming along well!" The blond replied proudly. Before adding "Where are the others?"

"I haven't seen Joly yet," Combeferre answered with a shrug "Jehan and Courfeyrac said they'd find us in a minute - I think Courfeyrac has found another girl to chase." He couldn't help but smile at his friends antics.

"And where's Marius?"

"Where'd you think?" Combeferre replied, half smiling once more "He's sitting with that girl of his."

Enjolras let out a frustrated sigh.

"Don't sound too enthusiastic," His friend teased sarcastically.

"I don't dislike Cosette, she's nice, it's just..." The blond boy struggled for words, as the pair finally located an empty compartment.

"It's just?"

"It's just that since that, he doesn't seem interested in the course anymore!"

And it was true, Enjolras thought darkly. Because Marius and Cosette were both in Hufflepuff, they had begun the annoying habit of missing most meetings of the friends of the ABC, and when they did come to the meetings they just sat in their little huddle, talking about how much they loved each other! There couldn't be a more distracting thing when trying to gain equality among magical creatures. Enjolras didn't understand why people went on and on about how perfect love is, as, if he was honest to himself, nothing about love interested him. Even Courfeyrac going on and on about how great sex is didn't really make Enjolras any keener on embarking into a relationship. He was simply just too busy, and had more important things to spend time on.

By then, the two had settled into the compartment, their trunks stored safely above them. Enjolras was looking dreamily out of the window, Combeferre had his nose in an Arithmancy book.

When Courfeyrac finally showed up it was just past noon.

He dragged his trunk behind him, looking grouchy as he hauled the case onto the rack above his head, before slumping into the seat next to Combeferre, who barely looked up from his book.

"I hate the start of a year!" Courfeyrac sighed, looking depressed at the the very thought of going back to Hogwarts; back to teachers, and lessons and work - it was enough to depress anyone!

"Where's Jehan, I thought he was with you?" Enjolras asked turning to face the dark haired Hufflepuff, who was now picking at a pumpkin pasty he'd pulled from his pocket.

"I dunno, he was talking to some Slytherin guy he said he knew,"

"And you decided to ditch him?" Combeferre asked in an off hand tone.

"Oh lay off - he'll be here in a minute," Courfeyrac groaned sinking, if possible further into his seat. As if on cue Jehan pulled back the compartment door and settled himself onto the seat opposite Courfeyrac, looking a little put out.

"Did you really have to leave, Courf, I wasn't taking too long" The poet said in slight annoyance, which was unusual for Jehan, as he hardly ever got angry.

"You were taking ages!" Courfeyrac argued "and that guy you were talking to, looked like he'd crawled out of the gutter!"

"Don't say that!" Jehan retorted, clutching his poetry book, never wanting to think badly of anyone.

"Who was it?" Combeferre asked kindly, looking up from his book, and taking off his glasses. Combeferre always knew how to carry on a conversation, while keeping everyone happy.

"It was Grantaire," Jehan answered enthusiastically.

"Who?" Enjolras asked, not recognising the name.

"Grantaire Labelle, I sat next to him in Charms last year! Oh that reminds me!" The small sandy blond boy exclaimed, jumping out of his seat slightly "How much reading did you do about each subject over the summer, because-"

"Oh Christ, you're actually excited aren't you?" Courfeyrac sighed, looking as though he was dreading the coming year even more.

"Of course!" Jehan answered excitedly "I can't wait to have Ancient Runes; I read the textbook twice over the summer! And Herbology is great! And I love Astronomy!"

"Yeah well, you're probably not human. I only took Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. S'just too much effort doing any more." The dark haired teenager whined, his head lolling sideways.

Enjolras raised his eyebrow slightly "You can say that again, Courfeyrac - you almost failed your Charms O.W.L"

Courfeyrac sat up, raising his hand to his chest in mock hurt, a smirk playing around his lips "Enjolras, I am truly hurt by your misguided assumptions, I'll have you know I'm a gifted charm caster," he sniggered "Wingardium Leviosa!"

In an instant his scrawny rat zoomed out of his pocket and began bobbing up and down in the compartment ceiling "See," The dark haired boy said happily "Aren't I talented?"

"Immensely," The blond replied dryly, while Combeferre grinned slightly, still engrossed in his Arithmancy book, as his friends rat sank slowly lower.

"Well Courf is good at Divination and Care of Magical Creatures!" Jehan said, sticking up for his best friend, who simply scoffed, replying "Well, even the mighty Enjolras admits that Divination is crap!"

"It isn't!" Enjolras protested, feeling annoyed at his friends disbelieving faces (Even Combeferre looked sceptical) "I think that it's interesting, and useful, and…"

"Shit?" Coufeyrac finished his sentence for him. Unable to deny his friend accusations, Enjolras quickly changed the subject "Well, Care of Magical Creatures is good,"

Earning him a smile from Jehan, whose second favourite subject, after Herbology, was Care of Magical Creatures.

"Yeah, but I swear everyone does Care of Magical Creatures," Courfeyrac whined, starring at the landscape out of the window, which was slowly growing wilder, the neat fields and houses morphing into muddy brown moors and jagged rocks.

"Joly doesn't," Jehan piped up, far more enthusiastically than even Enjolras would consider being normal.

"Yeah, but only because he's terrified of catching dragon pox," Coufrfeyrac muttered prodding his wand at his rat, that now appeared to be hibernating on the seat next to him.

Just then Joly, stumbled in, several heavy books in his arms, looking flustered.

"You okay, Joly?" Courfeyrac asked in an offhand tone, barely turning to look at Joly, as he continued attempting to shove his rat into his pocket.

"Em, yes, I just, er..."

"What is it?" Enjolras asked looking directly at his friend.

"I just ran into, erm, James Potter..." Joly trailed off into silence as he settled himself next to Courfeyrac, who smiled at him sympathetically, as Jehan struck up a conversation.

"Don't," Combeferre muttered, just loud enough for Enjolras to hear, as the blond had been glaring slightly at the mention of James' name.

"How can I when he goes discriminating against other wizards for no reason what so ever!" Enjolras whispered passionately, but still quiet enough so that only Combeferre would hear.

Combeferre didn't reply. He didn't need to.

Enjolras sat back without saying anything, but he was glaring determinately out of the window, which now showed dark rugged landscape, tucked between the folds of huge valleys and hills.

That damn James Potter! Enjolras thought bitterly. He was probably the only person in Hogwarts that he truly disliked, to put it mildly. Enjolras had always found James to be arrogant, childish, and stupid. He resented, firstly, having to be a year younger than James, but, more importantly that he had to be in the same house as him, and on top of that he actually had to share a common room with James! That was one of the reasons why all of Enjolras' friends weren't in Gryffindor, it seemed all the other Gryffindor boys in their sixth and seventh year wanted to idolise James, though he had never actually done anything that was the slightest bit useful to anyone! All Potter ever did was go on about how great his father was, that his family was amazing and all that rubbish, not to mention the fact that he judged people on their blood status, rather harshly, one of the things that his father had, in fact, fought so hard against. Not that he seemed to care...

And his brother was just the same! Well, he probably was, Enjolras had never really spoken to Albus, or heard him call anyone a mudblood. But Enjolras could quite easily imagine Albus being the same immature little boy that his older brother was. The Potters are all the bloody same, he thought, darkly.

The remainder of the train ride passed relatively quietly; Courfeyrac, Jehan, and Joly chatting happily, with Combeferre occasionally joining in. Marius and Cosette even came in for a while before going back to their compartment. And when the Hogwarts express finally pulled into Hogsmeade's tiny station, even Enjolras seemed to be in a better mood. It was, unfortunately, short lived.

As the five boys waited for an empty carriage to arrive, they strained their necks trying to catch a glimpse of Marius and Cosette, when a person slammed into them.

Jehan got the worst of it, and was shoved forward landing hard on the ground with a yelp of pain.

Enjolras turned to find himself facing James Potter and three of his friends, laughing and jeering at the boy on the floor.

"Watch where you're going, Prouvaire!" The messy, black haired boy teased, looking down on Jehan.

"Fuck off, James!" Courfeyrac growled harshly, Joly shrunk behind him looking slightly nervous.

"Don't you have something else to waste your time on?" Enjolras spat, standing in front of his friends.

"Says the boys who are fighting against a problem that doesn't even exist anymore!" James smirked as Courfeyrac helped Jehan to his feet.

"You're the one who calls people 'Mudbloods'," Enjolras retorted, ignoring the effect that it had on Jehan and Joly, both of whom had been referred to as mudbloods by many people, including James.

"Whatever, Enjolras," James sneered.

He cast his eyes over the other boys, stopping a second longer on Jehen, and smirking even longer at Joly, before he and his friends got into the horseless carriage, which the other boys had been waiting for, though none of them made any move to stop him; as far as they were concerned, James Potter was not worth the effort.

And without giving them so much as a backwards glance, the carriage Potter and his followers were in set off up the hill, leaving the group of boys glaring after them.

"Well," Courfeyrac said, in a reasonably bright voice, which the others instantly interpreted as sarcasm, "This year's shaping up to be a good 'un already."


	2. Chapter 2

Grantaire took a deep breath - for once not intoxicated - preparing himself for another torturous year. Whilst staying with his parents was hell, school was worse. It was just the fact that he had a few acquaintances here that made it even slightly bearable.

But, it was also almost time to see him again.

A quick tug on his arm revealed Éponine, who was only a few inches shorter, but still had to look up to meet Grantaire's eye, her eyebrows raised impatiently.

"I dunno 'bout you, Labelle," She started, her dark eyes glancing over the castle in a bored yet curious manner, "But I'm just 'bout ready for a drink."

Her confident tone and demanding nature used to annoy Grantaire, but he had since wormed his way under her skin, getting to know when she was joking and when she meant every single word, and had found that she was in fact alright. To a new friend, she appeared basic and straightforward, but was infact a delicate balance of many things, which Grantaire had, unfortunately, learned the hard way.

"Dining in or out, Madam?" He offered her his arm in a jokey manner, but to his surprise, she took it, and then started pulling him up the hill with it. Éponine was always surprising him.

"Dining in, My good sir." A posher accent slipped into her usual drawl, changing the perspective of her completely, as she straightened up, her cloak now flapping in the wind behind her slightly. Grantaire always thought that she'd go into an acting class of some sort, with all the accents and airs she could put on. However, she'd already got herself a summer internship in the Auror department for the end of the year, and there's no way in hell that anyone would turn that down.

"Sounds splendid, Madam. Any fine wines on offer for us to try?"

At that, she shook her head, in a sort of delicate manner, like you'd expect a member of the royal family to.

"I'm afraid not, good Sir. The only thing available is this little drink I like to call-"

She leant a little closer, as if whispering a secret, even though they both knew what was going to finish the sentence.

"-Vodka."

This earned a grin from both of them, but it was just that point when they reached the entrance to the castle, the light flooding out of the open doors. Normally, the students would all go up in the carriages and then get out a little way down the hill and walk up, chattering and laughing and ready for another year at Hogwarts, but Grantaire and Éponine did their best to avoid these as much as possible. Whilst they kept themselves to themselves, other people didn't always leave them alone. Namely, James Potter.

Instead, they walked from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, which only took half an hour if they were quick, but often wasn't enough time to escape the feast altogether. Their prefects all knew of Éponine and Grantaire's constant skiving, and did their best to cover for them, but sometimes it wasn't enough.

"Didn't you want to see your brother get sorted?" Grantaire asked, as they edged closer to the door, unsure whether to walk straight in or to wait for everyone to leave and go with the crowd. "It's a pretty big thing for him, right?"

She merely shrugged, and crossed the entrance to go and lean on a pillar that wouldn't be in sight if the doors opened unexpectedly. From this angle, they'd learned, they could hear McGonagall's speech, and not be heard themselves. If they'd gotten here early enough, they might also have been a chance at listening to the sorting.

"He'll probably be Gryffindor - my parents don't really give a damn. They don't know much about the magic works - they just want us to keep it so they can use it to their advantage, like making deals here as well as in the muggle world, I guess."

"What would your Father be? Y'know, if he weren't a muggle." Grantaire asked, finally giving in and joining her by the stone pillar, careful not to let his shoes squeak on the floor, as Mrs Norris could feel almost anything under her feet like a radar.

"Slytherin. What else?"

"Dunno. Can you imagine your father being friendly with Slughorn?"

Éponine snorted, but somehow still managed to make it look graceful. Slytherins often had that air of grace about them, which Grantaire had been told was similar to a vampire's.

"Definitely. He'd have been the smarmy arsehole that brought him the bloody pineapple chunks."

Grantaire grinned, trying to imagine Mr Thénardier as a student, supposedly innocent, but probably the complete opposite. All he could imagine was a chubby little 12 year old waddling along to Slug Clubs, but that image was just fine for this purpose.

Then, interrupting their thoughts, a deep, panting breathing worked its way up from outside, as if someone was running towards the castle. No, two people.

Éponine was the first on the case, hopping off the small ledge she'd perched herself on, peering around the door, her eyebrow raised. For 4 years, they'd been uninterrupted whilst they waited for the Great Feast to finish, so why any different this year?

A loud exclamation came from the other side of the door, from which Grantaire could tell that they were students - male students. Sighing, he made his way over to where Éponine was stood, joining her in taking a long look at the arrivals.

He recognised them – but they weren't in his year. Maybe the one below?

Of course, their eyes had instantly latched onto Éponine. Whilst she wasn't what Grantaire would call 'beautiful', she was certainly striking, but still had a hint of familiarity about her face. This familiarity was something her Father adored about her, as it made her excellent for his little endeavours; she was easily trusted and most people in her home town knew her name.

"What cha doin'?" She asked the two boys, her voice seeming casual on the surface, but with an undertone of warning and condescension. "Out for a late-night stroll?"

The first of the boys spluttered, but the other one gained his composure quickly.

"Terribly sorry to have, er, burst in on you like this." His blonde hair was fluffy and sticking up in many directions, and Grantaire guessed that they'd run most of the way. "We kinda missed the carriages."

Éponine waited a second, a painfully calculating look on her face, before shuffling back to let them in.

"If you're going to go in, tell no one you've seen us."

The more confident boy manage to smother a grin at that, and motioned to his friend for them to go inside. After a few seconds pushing, the Great Hall doors opened, and they walked into a stunned silence, Grantaire and Éponine keeping care to stay out to the way. The Great Hall doors were rarely opened for a single person, and often had to be helped by magic; most would think it a suspicious occurrence, as they couldn't see Éponine tucking her wand back into her pocket.

Waiting for someone to close the doors again - it would look too suspicious for Éponine to do it both times - Grantaire checked his watch.

"Only 20 minutes to go." He muttered, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. "Jesus, can't we just go sit in the kitchens or something until they're done?"

"Nah, we'll get caught by Filch or the Bloody Baron or something."

They waited, and finally the Great Hall doors shut, although not properly, so the two outside could hear the commotion inside. It turned out that one of the Slytherin first years had knocked a plate of pudding onto a seventh year, who was getting angry, understandably. Even though it appeared he had been cleaned off, the First year was still terrified and had burst into tears.

Well, that's what Grantaire and Éponine heard in the Common Room later, anyway. At that moment they were playing little mind games, the kind small children play at parties, such as "what would you do for a million galleons?" or "would you rather?". Grantaire had just thrown out "would you rather eat a kilo of hippogriff shit or have everybody hear your thoughts for a day?" when the Great Hall doors opened again, signalling the end of the Feast.

Silently and swiftly, the two hopped back, leaning against the wall close enough that they would be thought of as together, but not close enough to be together. There had been many a incident in previous years where a relationship had been insinuated, and neither of them had remembered the experiences happily. They made conversation a little more forced and wooden for days on end, until finally they'd relax back into their friendship again. All in all, a pointless and unpleasant experience for everyone involved.

Together, they watched the bossy prefects blend into whispering First Years, breaking off into chunks of second, third, fourth years and so on. The cloaks dragged behind them, tugging on their shoulders and tickling at their sore backs, teasing crinkles out of previously pristine clothes. Grantaire had never really seen the point in the cloaks - they rarely kept anyone warm anyway.

Just as they shuffled over to join the crowd, Éponine let out an unladylike snicker.

"Look at their stupid little hats. They look ridiculous."

Rolling his eyes, Grantaire coaxed Éponine out of the Entrance Hall, tempting her with the promise of vodka to come, and lots of it. As usual, it got her moving swiftly, and within moments they were walking ten paces behind the gaggle of firsties, both completely lost in their own worlds.

This stopped, however, when Éponine got knocked over by an incoming Slytherin, who she, at first, lashed out at, but relaxed when she saw their face.

"Scorpius Malfoy, you little shit!" Just for good measure, she punched his arm so hard he winced, and trust me that takes a strong hit. "I could count that as rape."

"Ah, but you'd never confess that, my dear." He said, slinging an arm around her shoulder that she immediately shoved off, scowling.

Grantaire knew that she didn't really dislike him. She always put on this act of cold bitchiness, but she was actually one of the most caring people Grantaire knew; when she cared about someone, she cared deeply and forever. Once you became good friends with Éponine, there would always be a little piece of her heart with your name on it, even if she was supposed to despise you. It was just the way she was.

"Eff off, you creep." She sneered, her eyes narrowing to slits, hands on her hips. "Go fuck some whore and come back when you feel better."

"I would, but all the pretty ones are taken." Scorpius genuinely looked a little sad at this, but then bounced back to his former self.

Well, it wasn't his real self, Grantaire knew that much. The Scorpius he knew would send letters to his mother every week, keep his trunk so ordered it bordered on obsessive, and clean his teeth like it was a life rule. However, the Scorpius Éponine had the pleasure to know was an absolute arse; he was sexist and rude, constantly insulting everybody and getting away with it.

"You're such a pig."

The brunette could hear their bickering, but chose to ignore it. No matter what he said, they would do it anyway.

"Not as piggy as you, babe."

Honestly, Grantaire wouldn't blame her if she didn't really like him.

"Oi," Scorpius waved a hand in front of Grantaire's face, though it disappeared quickly with a yelp, "Call the bitch off."

"Éponine, stop attacking Scorpius. Scorp, stop pissing off Éponine." Sighing, Grantaire finally turned to look at them, dragging Éponine so she was stood on the other side of him, "Honestly, you two are like five year olds. I should get paid fucking babysitter wages."

Éponine simply rolled her eyes and tugged her arm out of Grantaire's grip.

"Oh give it up with the angst, Tubby." She stopped short in front of the entrance of the Slytherin common room, waiting for the stream of Firsties to go in before proceeding, shoving a few out the way if they didn't move quick enough.

However, her lazy plodding soon sped up when she realised what it meant to finally be back in the common room - vodka.

"I'll be back in a minute," Her eyes were bright with the idea of alcohol, "Go grab our seats before some cocky Seconds do."

By the time the two guys had reached the chairs and made themselves comfortable, Éponine was back, and this time with a shiny bottle of liquid in her hand.

"Here's to the Polish muggles that, apparently, invented vodka," She snapped the lid, cracking it open, "I owe them a bloody lot."


	3. Chapter 3

"Come on Jehan, we need to get up," The familiar voice of Marius Pontmercy roused Jehan from his sleep. Yawning, the young poet opened his eyes to see that Marius was already dressed, and was starting to throw his books in his bag for lessons.

The first day back at classes was nobody's favourite time, but Jehan knew that Courfeyrac, in particular, hated the first day of lessons.

"What have we got today?" Jehan mumbled, pulling the yellow bed sheets higher, wishing that he could drift gently back into sleep.

Marius thought for a second before reciting his timetable.

"Em, we've all got Divination-"

The large lump in the bed opposite, which was Courfeyrac, let out a groan,

"Then we have Charms before lunch with the Slytherins-"

Marius said the word with distaste, and even Jehan allowed himself to make a bit of a face; he had always found Slytherins a little… well, mean. They just seemed too aggressive and foul-mouthed. But the Charms Professor was one of Jehan's favourites, so he supposed that it wouldn't be too bad.

Marius' voice pulled Jehan out of his thoughts "And then after lunch you have Ancient Eunes, while I have Muggle Studies, and Courf has nothing."

The lump in the bed let out a small cheer.

"Oh, but Enjolras wants to have the first meeting tonight," Marius sighed, as Jehan began to pull oh his shirt and tie. A sound not dissimilar to a dying frog rose from Courf's bed.

Grinning slightly, Jehan pulled his bad towards him, and stated to neatly place his books within it, not forgetting the small notebook he carried with him at all times to scribble ideas for poems.

"Personally, I like going to the meetings. They're kind of inspiring, you know?" The poet said absently as he carefully started to braid his hair.

"But, first day... Lessons, homework, ugh!" Courfeyrac groaned, finally emerging from beneath the sheets. Jehan was unable to stifle a laugh at his friends ridiculous hair, which was now sticking up at all angles. Courfeyrac raised an eyebrow playfully.

"Oh come on, how can you resist this much sexy?"

Heat rushed to Jehan's face, and he forced himself to double check his books again to hide it. This didn't go unnoticed by Courfeyrac.

"Come on Courf! We're gonna be late!" Marius whined as his curly haired companion slowly started to get dressed. Luckily for the other two Hufflepuffs, Jehan had had the foresight to prepare Courfeyrac's bag the night before, meaning when he finally finished getting dressed they could get it of the common room fairly quickly.

Courfeyrac didn't even seem to have the energy to flirt with the girls in their house as they watched him exit the common room. Although Jehan would never tell anyone, he really disliked listening to Courfeyrac flirting with girls. But he wasn't jealous! He just... Liked having as much of Courfeyrac's precious attention as possible.

The three Hufflepuffs walked past the kitchens, and further along the corridor full of portraits until they reached the entrance hall.

Courf groaned as the bright morning light hit him.

"I'm melting!" He hissed raising his hand dramatically in front of his face.

"Courf, you're not a vampire! Please just hurry up." Marius muttered, his eyes fixed on the distant image of Cosette sat at the Hufflepuff table. Sighing slightly, that his joke hadn't received the reaction he'd hoped for, Courfeyrac followed Marius and Jehan towards the grand oak doors which led into the great hall, past a group of four Slytherins milling around the entrance to the great hall.

Though he wouldn't dare call himself an acquaintance, yet alone a friend, Jehan recognised the boys in group; the silver blond hair of Scorpius Malfoy was hard to miss, and next to him was Grantaire Labelle, the Slytherin that Jehan had sat next to last year in Charms class. The blond haired boy tried to smile at Grantaire, but the boy was staring intently into the hall with tired looking eyes - Jehan wouldn't rule out the possibility that the Slytherin boy already drunk at ten to nine in the morning.

And Bahorel, the burly Slytherin seventh year who stood with them, was basically a Hogwarts legend; it seemed that no one had ever gotten as many detentions as Bahorel. Courfeyrac had always said that Bahorel was the main reason Slytherin had never won the house cup in all the time they'd been at Hogwarts.

The girl, on the other hand, was recognisable, definitely from his year, although Jehan was unable to recall her name. But as they passed, the poet saw her eyeing the group, looking almost shy... Perhaps she was one of the many girls in love with Courfeyrac.

Breakfast passed relatively uneventfully; Enjolras, Joly and Combeferre said a brief hello, but the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had Transfiguration first, and they wanted to be early in order to get some work done.

So the three Hufflepuff boys, along with Cosette, walked to their divination class together.

The class had continued as it had always done: the entire class was bored senseless. At one point Courfeyrac had actually fallen asleep, only to be jerked awake by Jehan when he was asked to make a prediction by the Professor.

Courf had then deduced that, due to the unusual movements of Jupiter, Jehan would be attacked by a Blast-Ended Skrewt, and then proceed to be killed by a Griffin. Professor Trelawney, the ancient Divination teacher - or as Courfeyrac referred to her "that old hag" - had rewarded him with 10 points to Hufflepuff. Meaning that Courfeyrac had been almost unbearable (he'd probably never gotten that many house points in one go before).

"That was worse than I remembered," Marius sighed as the three walked towards the Charms corridor along with the rest of the Hufflepuffs, a few Slytherins mixing in with them.

"Well, personally, I thought it was a great lesson!" Courfeyrac announced walking with a bit more of a swagger than usual. Jehan couldn't help but grin slightly; Courfeyrac always got so adorably pompous if he ever actually got something right in a lesson.

Be in spite of that the curly haired Hufflepuff visibly deflated as they came to a stop outside their Charms class.

After just a minute of waiting outside the dark wood door opened and Jehan's favourite Professor appeared.

Professor Golightly was very young - the youngest Professor at the school. She was a short, thin woman. Her dark hair pulled off her face in a braid, and a pair of spectacles balanced on her slightly upturned noose. Her high-pitched voice rang out like a bell.

"Please come in class, and find a seat," she gave an extra smile to Jehan; the young Hufflepuff was liked by most teachers, but Professor Golightly in particular considered him her best student. That was partly one of the reasons why she was Jehan's favourite Professor.

The class trooped half-heartedly into the class room. The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs remaining separate, as they continued chattering to other members of their house. Jehan could see that his two friends were busy with pretty Hufflepuff girls; Marius with the love of his life, and Courfeyrac with some girl whose name he probably didn't know. But that was just what Courfeyrac was like: his whole life was one more one night stand after another. Not that that should bother Jehan... Except that it did.

Either way, Jehan didn't want to awkwardly hang around his friends as they flirted, so he quickly moved away from the group of students to get his favourite desk situated right at the front of the class. That might have been considered too keen by some, but Jehan was always one to throw himself into everything he did, whether it was gaining equality for magical creatures, lessons, or his poetry; Jehan would always try his absolute hardest.

"Come on!" The Charms Professor chimed, as she saw most of the students still standing around talking "Now, I want you to sit next to someone who is in the other house." She said sternly, looking over her glasses, as the class let out a collected moan.

Jehan waited patiently, wondering who he would be partnered with, whilst he fiddled with his braid. As long as it wasn't Scorpius he didn't really mind.

"Not at the back, Mr Labelle," Professor Golightly said without even looking up from the papers on her desk "I'd like you to sit at the front again this year," she continued, gesturing vaguely at Jehans desk.

Well, Jehan thought to himself, it could be worse; at least he knew Grantaire, and the drunkard was easy to get on with, if a little cynical.

The poet turned in time to see a groggy looking Grantaire skulk out of the shadowy corner of the classroom and slump unenthusiastically down onto the chair next to him.

"Hello Grantaire," Jehan said politely "How was your summer?" He asked, not really knowing what else to say.

In reply the Slytherin boy just muttered something darkly, picking at a half healed cut on his arm.

Jehan opened his mouth, about to comment on the weather, when a voice interrupted.

"Hey R, thought I'd join you in the Eager Squad," Jehan turned around to give an indignant look at the dark haired girl he'd seen with Grantaire this morning, as she sat casually at the desk behind Jehan and Grantaire.

"Don't usually sit this far forward, 'Ponine," The Slytherin boy said slowly, his words slightly slurred.

The girl flicked a strand of dark hair out of her eyes before replying "Well it was either here or in front of Scorpius, and, quite frankly, the further I am from him, the less likely it is I'll concede an STD."

The blond Hufflepuff stared at the ground whilst Grantaire snorted, his cheeks flushed; this was not the kind of conversation he was used to.

Luckily for Jehan, the Professor spoke up before the Slytherins could continue their vulgar conversation.

"No, Courfeyrac! There's only one desk left, so please just make things simpler and sit down next to miss Thénardier," She sighed, already seeming exhausted from the rowdy students.

As it turned out, Courf had been trying to convince a Hufflepuff girl to swap places with him, as he'd have a better chance of falling asleep unnoticed at the back of the class than in the front. But, unfortunately, the Charms Professor had caught onto his plans.

Courfeyrac didn't look too happy; sitting at the front of the class had never been his sort of thing, but his eyes lit up as they saw the girl he'd be sat next to, and as he took his seat he had that painfully familiar expression in his face.

Jehan willed Courfeyrac not to... But he did.

"So you're Éponine right? That's a pretty name,"

Jehan winced at the girls cutting reply, which contained the words off, fuck, bastard and cactus. Though Courf just looked unfazed as ever, Jehan was about to make some kind of subtle hint to Courfeyrac not to attempt to flirt with Éponine, when something caught his eye.

Grantaire had taken out a small flask from his bag, the heavy sent of fire whiskey wafted towards Jehan. The poet had known that Grantaire had had a drinking problem last year when he'd sat next to him... But it hadn't been this bad! Okay sometimes he'd skip lessons, and he'd usually come into class a little more than tipsy. But never before had he actually drunk in the lesson.

What had made him suddenly get worse? Jehan wondered unable to stop himself feeling sorry for the drunkard. Had something bad happened to him during the holidays?

Someone cleared their throat behind Jehan, and he turned around to see Professor Golightly standing right behind them, about to hand out the text book.

With a sinking feeling Jehan realised that the Professor had just witnessed Grantaire's actions as well. Grantaire also seemed to pick up on this fact.

"Honestly Professor, I'm not drunk!" Grantaire slurred, raising his head, causing Jehan to wince a little; Grantaire's entire appearance contradicted his comment. As the Slytherin shifted slightly, Jehan caught a glimpse of his hands, which were shaking uncontrollably, and the Hufflepuff couldn't help gagging slightly as the scent of alcohol and muggle cigarette filled his nose. Grantaire's tightly curled hair fell in a knotted mess across his forehead. His skin was sickly pale and clammy, aside from the dark purple, bruise-like circles beneath his eyes, that were huge and bloodshot, but slightly glazed.

Professor Golightly hesitated, clearly wanting to scold the Slytherin student for appearing to the lesson on the first day of lessons already hung-over. But by the sixth year of Hogwarts Grantaire's drinking habits had become legendary, and most of the teachers had come to accept the dark haired Slytherin as somewhat of a lost cause. Either the professors would try their best to help Grantaire, by at least letting him get away with more than most, or they would pick on him in order to "motivate" him into stopping his undesirable habits.

But Professor Mary-Jane Golightly wasn't one of the latter; she was considerate, fair, and above all, sympathetic. This was one of the main reasons why she was Jehan's favourite teacher, and also why she didn't grow angry at Grantaire as most would.

A slight frown appeared on the witch's face. Pursing her lips she turned to Éponine, sat behind Grantaire "Do up your top button Miss Thenardier!" But the dark haired Slytherin girl made no attempt to sort put her uniform, she merely made a rude had gesture at the professors retreating back, before turning to face her bleary eyed friend.

"Nice one, R. Only thirty minutes into school and you've already had to lie your arse out of something."

Grantaire just sank further into his chair muttering something that sounded like fuck off, as Courfeyrac lent forward trying to gain the girls attention.

"So 'Ponine, you like Charms? Cause I do, you know. I think we're gonna work well together." the Hufflepuff purred.

"You're crap at Charms and you know it," Éponine snarled far more aggressive than needed.

Courfeyrac turned an incredulous face to look at Jehan "Where are people getting these misguided rumours about my charm-casting skills?! I'm actually pretty damn good at most things; Charms included!"

Letting out a short laugh, Éponine sneered "Yeah right Courfeyrac! You're so useless; you got fired from a blow-job!"

"...Speaking of blow-jobs"

"Bastard"

"Bitch!"

"Man-whore!"

"Excuse me!" The Professor shouted from the front of the class, looking as though she might finally be loosing her temper. "Would you all be so kind as to answer question 24 on page 601. In silence!"

* * *

Marius and Jehan sat at the the long Hufflepuff table the two of them had just finished their afternoon classes, and were ravenously gulping down the dinner on the table before them.

"Oi!" The pair looked up to see Courfeyrac strolling towards them looking pleased with himself; what he spent his free afternoon doing, the other didn't really want to know.

"Shove up, you two!" Courf whined, forcing a space between Marius and Jehan, and squeezing himself onto the bench.

Marius didn't even seem to notice - he was too busy smiling vaguely at Cosette as she talked to two other Hufflepuff girls further up the table, occasionally catching her eye and grinning even more.

Jehan on the other hand tensed up; Courfeyrac was sitting so close to him, that his entire left side was pressed against Jehan, his sweet warm scent was easy to detect. Every time the dark haired boy moved, his shoulder would slide against the poet's, sending tremors though his veins. As Courfeyrac shifted slightly to become more comfortable, his hip brushed Jehan's.

Blushing scarlet Jehan hurriedly announced "I, er, just need to go to the library before the meeting, I-I'll see you two there!" Before standing up from the table so fast that his books slide out of his bag and cascaded across the flagstone floor.

Sighing, Jehan knelt on the floor and began to pick up the contents of his back. Flicking his braid out of his way, Jehan realised that Courf had bent down to help him gather up him books, and now as he looked up, their faces were almost touching.

They stared at each other.

As he blinked, Jehan counted each eyelash, as they scattered the sunlight, illuminating the myriad of colours in his eyes. Each different shade of blue-grey in his eyes seemed more beautiful than the last; the colour reminded him of the open ocean. Jehan had obviously noticed them before, but he'd never prepared himself for seeing them this close; he could feel himself getting lost in the depth of those eyes…

Swallowing, Jehan looked down at his shaking hands and continued to pick up his books, refusing to let himself blush.

Jehan took the last few books from Courfeyrac and stuffed them hastily into his bag, before standing up and beginning to walk in the direction of the library, still feeling a little dazed.

Courfeyrac watched him go, a small smile tugging at his lips; he'd seen the look in his eyes when he'd stared at him.

* * *

What the hell took you so long?" Courfeyrac complained, he and Marius, had had to wait long enough for Jehan to come and meet them. After which Enjolras had been late showing up.

"I'm sorry, I was busy working," Enjolras muttered distractedly, as he began to walk in the direction of the stairs.

"Wrong way," Courfeyrac called after them, causing all three of them to stop and face him.

"But the classroom we use is up the stairs," Marius said uncertainly. Enjolras nodded in agreement.

"Awww cute," Courfeyrac smirked.

"What?"

"You're all so innocent!" Courfeyrac let out a laugh "Come along children," he mocked as he led the other three sixth years further down the corridor, stopping in front of the portrait of Gregory the Smarmy.

"Courfeyrac why are we here? We need to get to the meeting," Enjolras huffed.

"Because, goodie-goodies, this happens to be my secret passage that no one else knows about. And lucky for us it goes right to the floor we want." Courf smiled at the shocked looks on his companions faces, as he drew out his wand and tapped on the painting three times.

The portrait swung open. But much to Courfeyrac's surprise a person fell out of it.

"You're secret passage that no one else knows about?" Marius repeated, smirking slightly.

Courf stared at the first year Gryffindor with dirty blonde hair who was now sprawled across the floor.

"What the hell were you doing in there?" Demanded Courfeyrac.

"Exploring," the boy replied "Why? You angry?"

Clearly he had been listening to the sixth years conversation.

"Angry... I couldn't be prouder!" It was easy to see from his face that Courfeyrac had already taken to the young rebel.

"Oh, 'ello again!" The first year said cheerfully spotting Enjolras, who replied with an emotionless "Hi,"

"What's your name?" Courf asked grinning down at the first year. Jehan always loved how easily Courfeyrac could make friends with people.

"Gavroche, what's yours?" The Gryffindor first year answered flashing the older boy a toothy grin.

"I'm Courfeyrac,"

"You were all talking 'bout a meeting. Can I come?"

"No!" Enjolras said harshly, but Courfeyrac was louder.

"Course you can," Courfeyrac replied taking no notice of the leader. "Follow me, good friend!"

As they ran up the passage together, racing and whooping in a childish manner, Enjolras muttered, mostly to himself.

"It's the beginning of the end."


	4. Chapter 4

"Oi, Tubby."

Grantaire raised his eyebrow and tilted his head slightly upwards, indicating that he was listening, but didn't want to break his line of eyesight from the book he was reading.

"Tubby," The 'y' extended into a childish whine, "Listen to me."

With the demand came a poke in the shoulder, causing a frowning Grantaire to look up into the pouting face of Éponine.

"What?" Grantaire sighed, tiredly, "I'm trying to read."

"Read?" It was safe to say that Éponine's expression was surprised. "I didn't realise you read."

"Are you saying that you thought I was illiterate?" Turning back to his book, Grantaire tried to find the sentence he had been reading before, but couldn't, and felt his concentration instantly droop. "Oh fuck it, what do you want?"

"Well-" Éponine took a deep breath, and Grantaire knew instantly that he was going to like this offer. "My brother's made some friends, see. Wants us to go meet 'em."

Dread flooded Grantaire's stomach in an acidic pool of fire.

"Wh-what?" He threw his book down on the table and twisted in his armchair to look Éponine in the eye. "We have to go meet up with some arrogant firsties because they're your brother's friends?"

"Actually," She took another deep breath, avoiding Grantaire's eyes, "They aren't really firsties."

At this point, Éponine was looking anywhere she could apart from at Grantaire. That day, the House Elves had obviously been into clean, as the drab grey stone walls were free of cobwebs and stains and most of the tables had no books on them. It was an odd sight, but it gave Éponine something to look at.

Of course, this could be due to the fact that everybody else was actually in lessons, while Éponine, Grantaire and some 7th year - who was huddled in the corner muttering to himself - had a free period. God alone knows why, as it was the third day back and they had only had a double Transfiguration and Charms the day before, but neither of the sixth years questioned it. Together, they blabbed their way through their Transfiguration homework, and had now discovered that, even though free time was precious, they had no real hobbies apart from drinking. This was also an issue when the Quidditch season came into play, as there we then only certain days of the week that Éponine would allow herself to drink, causing a big upset and usually a big withdrawal breakdown usually about halfway through the year. Hence, they decided they should take up a new hobby, but had given up searching for a suitable one after the third hour of thinking.

"Oh God, don't tell me your brother's made friends with a load of Seconds?" Grantaire scrunched up his face, trying to imagine having to be introduced to a whole bunch of arrogant imbeciles who thought of themselves as "the bomb".

"Worse." Éponine sighed, making Grantaire's eyes widen. There wasn't much worse than Seconds, so what the hell could it be? "They're in our year."

She gave him a moment to let this information sink in, and was rewarded with a loud moan a few seconds later.

"Not the fucking House Unity creeps!" The acidic dread in Grantaire's stomach grew, "I- we have to go meet them?"

“‘Fraid so.” Éponine muttered, shuffling her feet slightly, before taking the weight off the back of the armchair Grantaire was sat in. “They have some sort of meeting tomorrow, at six. I- I guess we just turn up and see what happens."

“They’ll kick our fucking arses - that’s what’ll happen,” Grantaire grumbled, moving his legs so he was now horizontally sat in the chair, his legs dangling over the edge. “We better not take Scorp though – whilst I acknowledge that he's a pain in the arse, I have his murder pencilled in for February, so we'll have to wait.”

Éponine nodded, agreeing without words that this would be an unthinkable idea. Discussing House Unity was one thing, but having a Malfoy turning up to the group would be rubbing it in their faces, and, seeing as these guys were supposedly Gavroche’s new friends, they didn’t quite want to do that just yet.

Grantaire breathed a heavy sigh, realising just how big of a task it was going to be to get in there and get along with them. This was going to take serious planning and perseverance.

“What time?”

“Tomorrow – six.”

“Great.” The brunette rubbed his eyes, tiredly. “What do they even do at those bloody meetings anyway?”

Éponine sighed, throwing herself on the armchair opposite Grantaire, arranging herself so they were in the same position.

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough, huh?"

-_-_-_-_-_-

"Grantaire, for God's sakes, please, put the god damned bottle down for half an hour."

"Never," Grantaire half-yelled back, causing half the corridor to turn and stare at the two in confusion. They must have been an odd sight, stood outside what they believed was the Gryffindor common room entrance, but had no idea how to get inside. It was almost ten past six, and they were still hovering awkwardly, unsure as of how to proceed with getting into the meeting.

"Grantaire, please," Éponine was almost begging him, but was trying to keep the desperation of her voice, "These people might be utter arseholes, but at least try and act sober - my brother really likes these people and I don't want to fuck it up for him."

Grantaire simply stared at her, eyebrow raised. It was unlike her to care about her brother so much; she missed his goddamn sorting for Merlin's sake. However, it would take more than just a stare to break her, so she merely raised her eyebrows back, before breaking the eye contact and stopping a Gryffindor Firstie in the corridor by grabbing the back of his robes.

"Oi, midget," She pulled him towards her, turning so she could meet his eye. "What's the password?"

"I- I- H-Hippogriff-" The small boy squeaked out, "But- but there's a meeting now, you can't go in!"

But Éponine merely rolled her eyes and released him, giving him a small shove in the direction of his friends, who were all staring at this striking girl with fear in their eyes. Pathetic, Grantaire thought, Honestly, you'd think we were ogres or something.

"Hippogriff," Éponine said in a loud, clear voice, which appeared to annoy the woman in the painting.

"First, you physically assault a member of my house," Her high voice was piercing, and Grantaire had to resist the urge to cover his ears, "And then you demand entry? Who do you think I am? I'm not just going to let the enemy in withou- Ooh! Who was that? Stop- what are you doing!?" 

The portrait swung open, and a tall brunette stuck his head out the opening, grinning apologetically.

"Sorry, she gets a bit fussy sometimes - hasn't quite adjusted to the times," He pushed the portrait open fully, ignoring the squawking of the lady in the portrait, and her demands for a meeting with the Headmistress.

"So, Slytherin, eh?" He remarked as he helped them through the portrait hole, which seemed a little high, even for Grantaire's standards, "Not had many of them here before."

"Actually," Grantaire grabbed Éponine's elbow and steered her carefully out of the path of a group of Seconds, "We're here because of Gavroche. Know him?"

"Short fella with the messy hair? That I do." They reached the group of people, mostly sat in armchairs and on sofas, calling out suggestions to a blonde student who appeared to be the scribe. "He's over there next to Courfeyrac - the one with the-"

"Oh, don't worry. We know Courfeyrac." Éponine said, coolly, her eyes fixed on the chatty brunette, Gavroche appearing to teaching him the rules of muggle poker.

Their companion winced, obviously expecting this.

"I was afraid you might." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, but gestured for them to take a seat, "How long did he string you along for, then?"

Éponine's sharp eyes swivelled back round, an element of surprise hinted in them, which she quickly masked.

"Oh no, not like that," She said, quickly, not wanting to get confused with the sort of rabble Courfeyrac usually dated, "We're just well acquainted, thank you."

"Oh," The brunette looked a little startled at Éponine's frostiness on the subject, "Er, sorry."

"Apology accepted." Éponine said, gracefully, and then turned to tune into the conversation, which appeared to be a load of nonsense on the surface. The male shot Grantaire a confused look, but he just shrugged in response; no-one could even keep up with Éponine, let alone understand her oddities.

"We could go fishing, couldn't we?" A Gryffindor girl with a cheeky smile called to the blonde, who looked like he was about to burst, "Y'know - make a day of it, invest in a boat, pack a few sandwiches-"

"Maria," The blonde managed to get out through gritted teeth, "Please, sensible suggestions only." 

"We should have a demonstration on the last day of term," The voice drifted up from the floor, just out of Grantaire's view, but Grantaire recognised it as the voice of the boy he sat next to in Charms class; Jehan, who, as he remembered, always had an immaculate hair braid, "If we do it before Christmas, everyone will be in good spirits, and there'll be less chance of arguments."

"Thank you, Jehan." The blonde said, sighing with relief, "Now, if you'll just give me a minute to write that down-"

"I can do it if you like, Enjolras." Gavroche piped up, tearing his concentration away from the game of poker that he appeared to be winning. "You talk, I'll write?"

"Er, that's okay, Gavroche." Enjolras looked a little uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving from the Firstie, "I'll manage."

Shrugging, Gavroche went back to his game, revealing his cards and causing Courfeyrac to groan loudly as he threw down his cards in annoyance. It happened to be that moment that Gavroche noticed the two Slytherins, and got up to go and sit next to them, shuffling his pack of cards as he did so.

"A'ight?" He threw himself into the unoccupied armchair opposite them. "Thanks for coming."

"Well so far there ain't much to be here for." Éponine replied, her tone still cold, but it was softer than before.

Éponine and Gavroche both had cockney accents, having grown up in that part of London, but over the years Éponine had managed to develop a Standard English vocabulary and accent that masked it, which she used almost everywhere, as she said it made people take her seriously. However, whenever she was around her brother, or really angry or upset, it slipped, and a few of the abbreviated phrases slipped out before she could stop them.

"Aw, you don't mean that," Gavroche grinned at her, and Grantaire had to blink twice to register the small smile on Éponine's face.

"Shu' up, shortie."

Gavroche rolled his eyes and offered Éponine the deck of cards.

"Wanna play?" 

"I'm good thanks." Éponine looked at the cards with disdain in her eye, "I've seen enough cards for a lifetime."

Just as she said that, a cry could be heard, and Éponine instantly stiffened.

"Hey, Éponine - you came!"

It was Courfeyrac, moving towards Éponine with his arms outstretched, as if going in for a hug. Whilst Grantaire and Gavroche had never spoken, they both knew what was coming next, and exchanged a dark look, knowing that this boy was done for.

Before Courfeyrac could squeeze into the space between Éponine and Grantaire on the sofa, he made the mistake of extending his hand; the suckers always did.

Éponine's arm shot out and curled her fingers around his wrist, and, before he could blink, had it pulled up behind his back, twisted so that he had to spin around simply out of reflex. Because of this, Éponine then had the power to stand up and rest her chin on his shoulder from behind, a smirk brushed onto her lips.

"Sorry, what was that?" She asked innocently, "I didn't quite hear you."

Scowling, Courfeyrac wrenched his arm out of Éponine's slacked grip, and sloped back off to the corner to sit next to Jehan, who looked positively alarmed at this display of aggression.

Still smirking, Éponine threw herself back down on the sofa, snatching Grantaire's bottle of firewhiskey and taking a swig, ignoring the disapproving looks her boys shot her.

When she finally picked up on them, she rolled her eyes.

"Jees, it's only his pride that's hurt. Not like he didn't need it or nothin'."

"That's definitely a sickle for the inappropriate jar, Thénardier." Grantaire said, reaching into his pocket for the small piggybank that they used to monitor the group's inappropriateness for the term, and Éponine reluctantly threw in a silver coin. At the end of the term, they'd count up all the money they had and splashed out on a load of Firewhiskey and muggle sweets. The last night of term was always an interesting one.

"Whatever." She took another swig of Firewhiskey, "This 'meeting' sucks anyway."

"Oi!" Gavroche looked slightly offended, "I think it's good."

"Well, what are you supposed to be doing?"

Gavroche opened his mouth to protest, but then paused and closed it again, looking around the room.

It appeared that the only person doing something productive was Jehan, who was colouring in a poster with his wand, which Courfeyrac was lazily duplicating, not even attempting to stay in the lines as carefully as Jehan was. Then there was obviously Enjolras, who was writing things down that were being called out to him, sometimes shooting back an angry retort at the ones that were more humorous than focused on Unity.

"Look," Enjolras managed to yell over the rabble, "I'm sorry we're not in the usual room, but I couldn't help the fact it was already being used. Please, just be mature about this and act appropriately. Everything will be back to normal on Wednesday!"

However, just as Enjolras asked everyone to be mature, Courfeyrac decided to charm a few posters into paper planes, which then started swooping around the room and poking people with the points.

Despite being poking rather vigorously in the side of the head by a paper plane, Éponine's eyes were fixed on a point on the far side of the room; where Marius Pontmercy was sat, talking quietly to another Hufflepuff girl, who Éponine instantly disliked. Grantaire noticed her line of sight and let out a small groan, only enough to attract her attention, since the rest of the room was in chaos over the paper planes.

Her eyes snapped to meet Grantaire's, sighing deeply when she saw what they were conveying.

"I thought you were over him?" Grantaire muttered, nudging her arm with his elbow, which she returned instantly, only a more direct and persistent jab; one that clearly said drop the topic.

"I only hope to Merlin's sweet arse that you are. Those months were seriously tedious."

Finally, after many jabs to the side, he dropping the topic.

At the start of Fourth year, Éponine had had a massive crush on this Hufflepuff boy, and the crush hadn't left her until the middle of fifth year, when she stopped doodling "Mrs Marius Pontmercy" on the inner cover of her notebooks. Some thought Éponine would never stoop so low; Grantaire, unfortunately, knew better.

Girls were really scary sometimes, Grantaire thought.


	5. Chapter 5

Marius paced up and down his dormitory, breathing heavily, trying with all his might not to do something characteristically stupid.

_Just keep calm and you'll be fine._

He and Cosette had been dating for quite a long time now. It had been the best time of Marius' life, it truly had; both of them were completely in love with the other, their whole lives had been changed by their partner, neither could ever imagine for just a second what life would be like with someone else.

Anyway, they had been dating for a really long time now, neither of them had ever been with anyone else before, and so they had decided that they wanted to be each others first time. All Marius' friends had teased him about how ridiculously innocent his relationship with Cosette was, to be fair they might have been right, it was stupid when you compared it to most people in their year. But on the other hand, saving yourself for the right person wasn't necessarily a bad thing in Marius' opinion. Take Courfeyrac, he'd never actually been in love, despite him having had more relationships than was deemed healthy (in fact, Marius really didn't want to know how old Courfeyrac had been when he lost his virginity).

_Courfeyrac!_ The thought made Marius jump slightly. _What if he came back while he and Cosette were..._

Feeling his stomach turn, Marius rushed over to his friends four poster bed, examining once again the timetable pinned above Courfeyracs bed.

Ever since their third year of Hogwarts, Courfeyrac had created 'the timetable'. It was basically a colour coded, hand written chart of Courfeyracs many girlfriends and when he saw them on a weekly basis. In fact Marius was pretty sure that Courfeyrac pays more attention to this timetable than the one for the different subjects.

Not to mention, the fact that he had felt the need to give all of the group a copy, so that they knew when he needed privacy.

But on the other hand that had brought some humour, especially that time, when Courf had attached it to one of Enjolras' papers with a permanent sticking charm.

Marius shook his head, refocusing his attention of the row marked Thursday. A full set of names filled that row, which was why Marius and his girlfriend had chosen to do it today; Courfeyrac was busy all day, at that moment apparently he was busy with 'Leah' not that Marius had any idea who she was.

But in addition to this, Jehan had gone to the library to do some extra research and notes on charms, meaning that he should be gone for a few hours.

_So with any luck..._

"Marius,"

He jumped at the voice, and turned to see his angel standing in the doorway, looking more beautiful than Marius ever thought it was possible for a person to look.

He swallowed, taking a second to stare at the floor. What if he screwed this up?  
He raised his head, about it say something, when he realised that Cosette was now standing right next to him, her hand entwined in his. Marius could see his own fear and uncertainty reflected in her eyes, but along with it was love. Such adoration and trust, which Marius knew he had never done anything worthy enough to deserve.

But he felt exactly the same as Cosette; he trusted her completely.

Slowly they started to kiss. Slowly at first, as they always did, before becoming more and more passionate. The experience was different, exciting, and the two of them wanted more.

Marius had no idea how they ended up lying on the bed next to each other, but once he was, there was nothing in the world that could distract him from the unearthly creature before him.

For a while the two of them just lay there, staring at each other, trying to memorise each perfect detail of the others body.

Finally Cosette moved closer, her arm brushing against his arms

Marius seemed unable to keep a constant train of thought.

His hand coming to rest of her delicate hip.  
Drinking in every perfect bit of her flawless being.  
So beautiful.

* * *

Combeferre climbed the spiralling marble staircase alone, returning to his common room to study for his free hour, after already spending his lunchtime in the library.

To his surprise, he saw a familiar face outside his common room entrance.

"... Would you like to go out with me? I mean it's a hard time for me, I could really use a friend right now."  
The girl in question looked close to tears, as she looked up into the sincere brown eyes of the boy next to her.  
Typical.

Combeferre wouldn't have put it past Courfeyrac to invent a traumatic experience just to get a girl, he just wouldn't have thought that he had the acting skills to pull it off. But apparently he was wrong, the Ravenclaw mused as the Gryffindor girl scurried away.

"Nice," Courfeyrac smiled smugly to himself, as Combeferre approached him " Must try that one again- on someone with smaller teeth,"

"Courfeyrac, have you ever heard of inner beauty?"

"Well, yeah," The Hufflepuff smirked as he spotted his friend "but casual sex really works better if both people involved are hot," he said casually leaning back against the wall, giving Combeferre a suggestive look.

"Courfeyrac what the hell are you doing?"

He grinned wider "Seducing you with my eyes!"

"Please stop,"

"Why? Don't fight it! You know we're meant to be, I mean, how can you resist this sexy?" Courf mocked.

Huffing, his friend merely replied "Seriously Courfeyrac, did you want something, or were you just trying to have sex with everyone who comes down this corridor?"

"... Well I'm not opposed to the latter, but no there is a reason," the Hufflepuff replied, his tone suddenly business like.

Combeferre waited.

"Do you not know!?" Courfeyrac demanded, looking crestfallen.

"Should I?"

"Er, yes! It my time to get off with Daisy!"

Combeferre sighed, all feelings of guilt gone.

"How can you not know this? I gave you a coppy of the timetable!"

"Yes and I burned it!" The Ravenclaw said defensively, at his friends irritated face.

"I put a lot of hard work into that," Courfeyrac muttered to himself, causing Combeferre to snort.

"Anyway, I still don't see why you're hear, I mean, if you're- er- scheduled to, em... then what are you not... doing it?" The sandy haired teen questioned, getting steadily redder and redder.

"Well she's a Ravenclaw... so she's in Ravenclaw tower... which is through here," The Hufflepuff motioned to the shiny wooden door, looking embarrassed "and, well-"

"You can't answer the riddle, can you?" Combeferre asked with raised eyebrows.

"Not as such."

Combeferre merely rolled his eyes, checking he had all the books he needed as he did. Before approaching the door and knocking the bronze door knocker three times. The instant he did the bronze metal began to move, it's shining beak, twisting to form the words of a riddle.

"Give me food, and I will live; give me water, and I will die. What am I?"

"Fire," he answered without hesitation, he'd figured it out quickly the previous afternoon, and apparently the riddle hadn't been changed.

Courfeyrac bounded in ahead of Combeferre as the door swung open, Courfeyrac seemed perfectly at home in all four house common rooms.

Yawning slightly, Combeferre sat down heavily on one of the armchairs, rifling through his books, trying to figure out which ones he'd need that afternoon.

"What have you got next Courf?" The Ravenclaw asked absently.

In response Courfeyrac pulled out a timetable from his pocket, examining it quickly.

"Well, as you know, I've come here after seeing Leah, I'm about to, em... spend some time with Daisy. And after that I'm pretty sure that Ava will want another go at-"

"Wrong timetable, Courf! Wrong timetable! I meant what lessons have you got next!" Combeferre practically shouted, thankfully cutting his friend off.

"Oh right," his friend replied, grinning at Combeferres flustered expression "I don't have anymore lessons today; it's Thursday! You know how I spend Thurday..."

"J-just go," Combeferre grumbled, trying to expel the images that were flashing through his mind.

"Don't mind if I do," Courfeyrac winked at his friend, before disappearing up the marble staircase to the dorms.

The Ravenclaw shook his head, half a smile on his lips, he really needed to find some new friends...

"I'm dying!" Came a rasp, behind the bespectacled Ravenclaw, as if to encourage Combeferre to find some other people to hang around with.

"We're all dying," he remarked in a monotone, there was no need for Combeferre to look up to see who had spoken.

"Yes, but I'm dying imminently"

Combeferre looked up half heartedly.

Joly a standing behind him, his eyes wide with fear, sweat covering his pale forehead, breathing heavily as though he'd just run a marathon.

Without hesitation, the other Ravenclaw yanked open the paving slab like book, and began flicking feverishly through it, searching his symptoms.

Combeferre couldn't resist smiled slightly as he watched his friend do this. It wasn't that he thought Joly did it for attention, or anything like that, but after he frequent 'illnesses' (and they really were frequent: Combeferre had lost count in their first year) it had become a little harder to take the brown haired boy seriously.  
Combeferre was snapped out of his thoughts by Jolys terrified voice, as he recited his symptoms.

"Insomnia! Headaches! H-hot flushes!"

"Menopause?" Combeferre enquired innocently.

"Combeferre, this is serious!" Joly pleaded "I want you to check me again!"

"Oh, Joly! I just-"

"Please!"

Exasperated, Combeferre placed a hand on his friends forehead, his temperature was fine, just the same as his pulse, when he checked that as well.

"Joly, you're fine, everything's normal,"

"B-but, but," the boy stammered looking close to tears.

Sensing an on coming panic attack, Combeferre reached into his bag, being Jolys dorm mate, as well as the 'dad' of the group, he was always prepared for the hypochondriacs antics. He quickly handed his friend a paper bag.

"Joly, just breathe okay, you're not going to die," Combeferre reasoned trying his best to reduce his friends heart rate, as the other snatched the paper bag, and made a desperate attempt and regular breathing.

The wisest thing for Joly to do was to try to relax a bit, otherwise he would be struck down by the heart attack that Combeferre was sure was heading his way.

He was about to tell Joly this, when they were interrupted by a sound not dis-similar to a dying whale, coming from the dormitories as Courfeyrac reappeared looking a little more than put out.

"She wasn't even there! She bloody stood me up! Can you believe that?"

He slumped down onto one of the comfy blue sofas, slinging his bag to the floor. Before shooting Joly, who was now breathing in and out of the bag so fast that he looked in danger of choking, a strange look.

"Er, what's up with him?" Courfeyrac asked, eyeing the other carefully.

"He's dying."

"Again?"

Combeferre gave a non committal grumble, as he reached to snatch the bag away from his friend.

"For goodness sake, Joly, don't inhale it!"

"Bu-but, library... Deathhhh, says- I-Illness-" as Joly began he standard post-panic-attack babbling, Combeferre could see Courfeyrac zoning out of their conversation.

"And-I-don't-know-what-to-do-and-I'm-going-to-die! -And-dragon-pox-and-spattergroit-and-" Jolys whines seemed to merge into one long, high-pitched drone, as Combeferre felt his attention span quickly diminishing.

"Yeah, you will not believe this!" Courfeyrac said, sitting up from his chair, bolt upright interrupting the others conversation. But they were quite used to this by now "I had nothing to do before lunch, okay, so you that Gryffindor girl?"

"Oh well, 'that Gryffindor girl' really narrows down our choices," Joly snapped, still irritable from his 'traumatising disease' though Courf seemed unaware of his tone.

"Rose, the red-head, she plays Gryffindor chaser,"

"Rose Weasley," Combeferre enquired, only half paying attention. Thank God Enjolras wasn't here, any mention of the Weasleys sent him into an annoyed rant, as he basically considered them to be Potters. Though Combeferre agreed that James Potter was an arrogant little child who delighted in humiliating, and discriminating others, but as far as Combeferre knew, his cousin, Rose Weasley, seemed okay. But either way it would be best to keep it from Enjolras to avoid a second battle of Hogwarts.

"Yeah, well she is hot, and we were alone in the library-"

"You were in the library!" Joly asked incredulously, but Courf took no notice.

"So I went over, said hello, and whatnot," Courf said his eyes wide "I used some of my best lines... and do you know she says?" The dark haired boy looked at his two friends who had returned to their reading; stories of Courfeyracs failed attempts at getting a girlfriend had gotten boring after two minutes of meeting him.

"Hello?" Courfeyrac persisted, waving his hand in front of Combeferres face "I said, do you know what she said!?"

"What?" Ferre asked in an uninterested tone.

"Nothing that's what!" The dark haired boy looked around waiting for a reaction "Hello! I said she said nothing! She ignores me- and then, she runs off after Malfoy...MALFOY! As in the cocky Slytherin perv..." Still no reaction from his fellows "Combeferre? Hello, HELLO! Have I turned invisible? Can you hear me?"

"Nope, not a bit," Joly answered without looking up.

The Hufflepuff just stood there for a moment looking at his friends as though they had committed blasphemy, before shaking his head with a mildly disgusted look "Okay I'm so fucking done with you two, you're just weird!" He muttered as he grabbed up his bad and started towards the door to the common room.

Neither Joly or Combeferre made a move to stop him; they both knew that he wasn't really angry, and even if he was, he could never stay angry for long.

As if to prove them right a mocking voice made the two Ravenclaws to look up a there friend, now standing in the doorway to the common room "Well I'll see you two prudes tomorrow, when I'm better rested. I've got places to be, and people to do," Courfeyrac smirked, waggling his eyebrows in a ridiculous manner, before finally disappearing out the door, and therefore raising the average IQ of the room by 20%.

Joly stared after him, his face midway between being impressed and disgusted. "Tell me again why we are friends with him?"

Combeferre chuckled slightly "His natural wit and social graces."

"Oh, right, of course,"

* * *

"... and then she goes running after Malfoy!"

Marius looked up at the indignant voice of Courfeyrac, in time to see his two room mates enter the dorm.

Jehan gave Marius a small, uncomfortable smile, before positing himself at his desk, to write more poetry no doubt.

Courfeyrac just sighed slightly, before turning his eyes upon Marius, sat innocently on the bed. There was something mischievous and knowing about the look in his eye. _No, he couldn't know, there was no way._

The dark hair boys smirk said otherwise as he sat himself down on his own bed, grinning even wider at Marius "So, Pontmercy, what have you been up to on this fine everything?"  
"Nothing," the other replied as casually as he could.

Courfeyrac just grinned- if possible- wider, he looked like he was about to explode.

"Courf, what the-"

"You had sex, didn't you!"

"Courfeyrac!" Jehan gasped from his desk, looking embarrassed for his friend.

"How the hell did you know!" Marius demanded, not sure whether to be impressed or freaked out.

"Oh please!" Courfeyrac replied, waving his hand casually "It's me. I know these things! Sooo was it good? Did you do something wrong, oh you did, didn't you? What about Cosette? Any kinky habits you'd care to share? To be honest, I can't really imagine Cosette being the wild type but you never know, there was this one time when I-"

"Courf, fuck off! That's none of your business!" Marius managed to stutter, once he'd recovered from shock.

His dark haired friend opened his mouth, clearly about to disagree, before being silenced by a warning look from Jehan.

"An whatever, I have better things to do: need to go get ready, girl number 5 is coming up, and I plan on it being a long night if you know what I mean." Courfeyrac said smirking, as he walked into the bathroom, and began to prepare himself for his 'date'.

Jehan made no reply from the desk he was sat at, Marius muttered a half hearted "You're disgusting," before dragging his bag towards him. He had nothing better to do.

Flicking through his timetable, he let out a groan "Ugh look what we have tomorrow!" Marius' eyes scanned down the solid block of lessons "That's the worst day of the week!"

In the bathroom Courfeyrac nearly choked on his toothbrush "Are you fucking kidding me Pontmercy? Take a look at Tuesday, and say that again!"

"Hm, yeah Tuesday is pretty bad," Marius contemplated "What do you recon Jehan; worst day of the week?"

"Thursday." The boy replied, not even pausing from the poem he was writing, his back still to Marius.

The freckled boy looked up confused: Thursday was today. Thursday was a good day, they had the least lessons and the ones they did have were easy... What was there to dislike about Thursday?

"What?" Marius half laughed "Why?"

"Just don't like them." The boy replied shortly, continuing to scribble his poems furiously into his notebook.


	6. Chapter 6

His hair - his eyes, the way he'd stood, his delicate hands,- his voice- 

Grantaire groaned, putting his head in his hands. Just the fact that they had to go and "meet" them was painful in itself, but Grantaire had just gotten used to the sensation of living without him. It may have been dull and painful, but there was his parents to think about; if they caught him even thinking about another guy in that way then it would probably have been the most painful experience of his life - way more painful than trying to forget about him.

Pain was not something Grantaire welcomed.

After the meeting, he had had to ditch Éponine outside the common room and go on a mad sprint around the castle, mainly just because he needed to work off the panic that was slowly seeping in through every pore in his body. Thankfully, there was no one about to laugh and heckle at him after hours. 

Looking back, Grantaire was surprised that he never got caught, but, even if he had, the prefects probably wouldn't have said anything; he was in a rather extraordinary state.

Of course, Éponine had started apologising profusely as soon as Grantaire finally reappeared in the common room almost two hours later, having rubbed off the tear tracks and hallowed expression. She hadn't made the connection of "meeting" Gavroche's new friends and Grantaire's whole issue.

He couldn't help it; his obsession was taking over him.

Yet it wasn't quite like Éponine's infatuation with the Pontmercy - it was more than that. Éponine was always so gutsy and ready-for-anything, but she'd hadn't uttered a word to him since First Year that didn't contain an insult. She considered it her weakness, but to Grantaire it was so much more than that.

It was a huge part of him that wasn't filled - void and numb and limp. One of the reasons he kept up his incessant drinking was so that that piece of him finally burnt with the alcohol and hurt with the rest.

Suppressing it was a constant use of energy; always having to think of new topics for his brain to distract itself with, always looking for another bottle to drown himself in. He'd been doing so well - but how could he move on now?

It was an addiction, and he was losing himself to it.

Or maybe he already had?

Grantaire was so tired that he didn't even notice when a certain blonde slipped into the dormitory almost an hour after he himself returned. The blonde did not let his smile leave his face until he had silently changed into his night clothes and gotten into bed.

:-:-:-:

A dull thud echoed through the dormitory room at half past six that morning, just as Jehan was tugging the knots from his hair with an old blue hairbrush. Rolling his eyes at the lump on the floor, he eventually managed to get the final bugger out from the end of his hair and threw the hairbrush on the floor, relishing in the harsh crack it made.

Normally, he wouldn't dare do such a thing, but this morning was different. This morning, the sight of Courfeyrac on the floor in his underwear, having just fallen out of bed, didn't do anything except disgust him.

"For Merlin's sake, do you have no co-ordination?" Jehan snapped, causing Courfeyrac's head to snap up in shock, even though he was still half asleep. Aggression was not usually something that was even hinted at in Jehan's tone, so this was a surprise to say the least.

"Wh-what?" Courfeyrac stuttered, not questioning the query itself, but more the whole mood of the male in front of him. "Jehan, are you-"

"Don't bother." Jehan spat, causing hurt to flicker in Courfeyrac's eyes like a flame, "We all know you don't really care." 

He cast a glance around the dorm at all the other shocked Hufflepuffs.

"I'll see you downstairs."

Stunned silence followed Jehan out of the dormitory, but, for once in his life, he didn't care that he had just upset someone. This in itself was odd, because normally the only person he cared about was Courfeyrac, and yet he was the one he was mad at.

Normally, the fact that he brought back girls wasn't much of an issue. Jehan just had to convince himself that he didn't really feel anything for them.

That bloody timetable.

It was the source of almost 40 percent of Jehan's problems because it was a constant, painful reminder that Courfeyrac didn't love him; not the way he should. As he sat down at the Hufflepuff table that morning, he couldn't help but loathe the small piece of paper he carried everywhere with him, burning his skin with it's presence.

Moodily buttering his toast, he tried to forget the night before: Courfeyrac had come in at two in the morning, humming through his nose and relaying the details of his night before he'd even gotten into bed. There were some things about Angelina Spinnet that Jehan would rather not have known.

After almost ten minutes of chewing his toast, the seat opposite Jehan was occupied by Marius, his look weary. He was alone.

"Morning," His tone was light, but he knew Jehan wasn't really in the mood for talking. Still, he tried. "Thank Merlin it's Friday, huh?"

Jehan made a non-committal noise, but he saw Marius making hand gestures to someone further down the table, which he tried to conceal but failed.

Of course, Jehan sighed, They're all further down the table, waiting for Marius' judgement. But it appeared to be negative, as they all stayed where they were.

"Hey, we have Charms today," Marius tried to pick up the conversation, "You like Charms!"

Jehan took a deep breath, trying not to snap, knowing that Marius would keep trying until he got a response, no matter how upset the person got. He might as well answer now rather than in ten minutes when he was fuming.

"Look Marius, I'm sorry-" He began, but he was cut off by another voice, spine-tinglingly familiar, coming from the other side of the Great Hall, getting closer.

"Oi, Prouvaire!"

It was Courfeyrac.

"What the fuck was that for?"

Wincing, Jehan twisted round in his seat to see Courfeyrac ten metres away, and advancing. A few Hufflepuff heads had turned to see what the commotion was about, but didn't look that stunned, as Courfeyrac often came into breakfast with a mouth on him. He had never been a morning person.

"Er- um, I-"

Mentally, he kicked himself. Could he not control himself for one minute? But his appearance was so carelessly handsome; tie askew, top button undone, shirt half tucked in, his hair shiny and yet scruffy, one hand in his pocket and the other holding- 

The timetable.

That fucking timetable.

Anger uncurled inside of him, exploding from it's tiny seed into a living, seething shadow, twisting erratically through his limbs, aching to break free of it's paper thin bonds.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jehan started, sarcasm bleeding into his tone, "Did you miss the part where I'm pissed at you and we don't speak for the rest of the day?"

"No," Courfeyrac reached the bench, anger sketched onto his features, "I got that part, but I don't give a shit about your little tantrum rules."

"Really?" Jehan raised his eyebrows, "Looks like you care enough to make a scene out of it."

It was true. By now, the majority of the Hufflepuff table had turned to watch the spat, and half of the Gryffindor table had turned to look as well; even Enjolras' blonde curls were looking up from his black coffee to find the source of the disturbance.

"Don't worry," Courfeyrac replied, a smirk brushed onto his lips, "I think I can handle the drama."

Jehan tried not retort with a childish remark, but struggled, as - with everyone watching - he didn't want to back down.

"This is stupid," He managed, through gritted teeth, "And bloody childish. Just let me have my day; my one day to hate on the world."

"No," Courfeyrac spat, his fist clenched, effectively crushing the timetable, which he didn't appear to notice at the time, "You can't be angry. You're Jehan."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The blonde replied, his voice trembling slightly, although it was only really apparent to the student opposing him, "Are you saying I can't have bad days?"

"You're the happy one." He replied, simply, "You make us feel good when there's nothing left in the world to hope for, you're the one trying to cheer us up when we've had a bad day. There isn't a fierce bone in your body, that's just who you are."

The inky shadow inside Jehan straightened itself, preparing itself to unleash the fire that was burning within, but somehow the Hufflepuff managed to control it.

"You don't think I can be fierce?" His voice was low, but by now the entire Great Hall had stopped their bickering to listen, confused but riveted, to the argument between the two boys. "You don't think I can be passionate about the things - the people - I love?"

"N-now, I never said that-" Courfeyrac started, looking a little startled, stuttering for possibly the first time in his life, but Jehan cut him off almost instantly.

"You didn't say it, but that's what you thought." Sparks were flying in Jehan's stomach, and he was having a hard time keeping them inside; all he wanted to do was set them free, "Damn it Courfeyrac, I can be compassionate. I can be fierce. I can be whatever the hell I want - whoever the hell I want - and you can't tell me otherwise."

Finally, when he felt like he just couldn't stand the shocked silence any longer, Jehan stood from his seat, the entire Hogwarts population staring, and he stormed out of the Great Hall, stupidly forgetting his bag in the process.

Never before had he blown up at Courfeyrac like that - never. To think, Jehan shuddered to himself, that the first time it happened had to be in front of all those people... Next time, I'll wait until we get back to the Dorm for all that.

Settling into the corner of an empty Charms classroom, his first lesson, that didn't commence for at least another half an hour, Jehan drew his knees up to his chest and tried to stay calm.

He'd just upset Courfeyrac.

Whilst he tried to console himself, saying that Courfeyrac was being a dick and he deserved to be yelled at, he knew deep down that he'd failed himself. Courfeyrac was right - he was always the peacemaker, the happy one. How could he believe that his bad day had a right to ruin everyone else's?

"Sucks, huh?"

Startled out of his self pitying state, Jehan spun around to see Combeferre in the doorway, holding the blonde's bag in his outstretched hand. 

"What sucks?" Jehan replied, almost positive that Combeferre was referring to arguing with his friend, but still the tiniest bit unsure. That tiny piece of grit was lodging itself in his heart and grinding against his nerves.

"Wanting someone you can't have."

All life stood still, time slowing down, Jehan able to count the milliseconds that passed.

How did he know?

The words hung heavily in the silence, Combeferre's piercing look daring Jehan to deny it. Jehan felt them echoing in his ears, twisting into words they weren't, twisting into the things he didn't want to hear.

"I don't know what you're-"

"Don't." Combeferre's voice wasn't unkind, but it was firm. "You know exactly what I mean - you like Courfeyrac."

Opening his mouth to argue, Jehan tried to come up with a suitable, believable argument, but found none. Instead, he sighed, and reached out his hand for his bag, effectively inviting Combeferre to come and sit next to him.

The floor was cold and dusty, in desperate need for a clean although it was only a few days after it had been thoroughly swept. This was the thing Jehan held onto as Combeferre sat down next to him, bringing thoughts of Courfeyrac and pain in a sweep of cool air.

"How did you know?" Jehan asked, his voice tired, reigned in by the argument he'd just had. "Am I obvious?"

"No," Combeferre started, slightly hesitant, "It's not obvious. I'm just... Observant."

Slowly, Jehan slid down the wall until his back was slumped in an 'S' shape, probably causing havoc for the bones. Not that he particularly cared at that moment in time.

"What do I do?" Jehan whispered, more as a question to himself than to Combeferre, "If he realises that-"

"He won't." Combeferre assured him, quickly, "It's Courfeyrac. You have nothing to worry about."

Just then, the bell for the start of the first lesson went, signalling that the two should probably stand. However, before they had a chance, the door to the Charms classroom banged open, and the man of the hour walked in.

Courfeyrac.

For a few seconds, he didn't notice the pair sat in the ground, merely throwing his bag on his desk near the front, sighing deeply. Then, when he finally picked up on the movement out of the corner if his eye, he froze.

Turning to look at them, Combeferre recognised instantly what was flaming in his eyes; jealousy.

Heavy air hung around them, wrestling the life from their lungs.

Yelps and happy shrieks suddenly filled their ears as the rest of the class wandered in, barely noticing the tension between the original teens. This sudden burst of colour and noise meant that the eye contact was broken, luckily for Combeferre.

"I'll see you later, okay?" The Ravenclaw muttered to his friend, finally standing, noting how the brunette was watching them out of the corner of his eye, "Don't let him get to you."

"Thanks," Jehan murmured back, although he was barely listening; he was too busy trying to avoid looking at Courfeyrac, "I- I'll try."


End file.
